and confused," he muttered impatiently. "Why do
I sit here and let my legs ache with this rope tied round them when I
might take it off?"

This was better still; it gave him something to do; and he at once
attacked the tight knots, which proved so hard that he pulled out his
pocket-knife, which had not been taken away. But the rope might be
useful for escape! So he closed his knife, and with all a sailor's
deftness of fingers attacked the knots so successfully that he at last
set his legs free, and, coiling up the rope, tucked it beneath the
straw.

"Murder!" he muttered, drawing in his breath; for now that his legs were
freed they seemed to ache and smart most terribly. They throbbed, and
burned, and stung, till he had been rubbing at them for a good
half-hour, after which the circulation seemed to be restored to its
proper force, and he felt better; but even then, when he tried to stand
up they would hardly support his weight, and he was glad to sit down
once more and think.

The darkness was terrible now that he had no longer to make any effort,
and the silence was worse. He might have been buried alive, so solemn
and still did all seem.

But Hilary soon shook off any weak dread that tried to oppress him, and
rising at last he found that he could walk with less pain, and
cautiously leaving the heap of straw upon which he had been lying, he
began to explore.

Slowly and carefully he thrust out one foot and drew the other to it,
feeling with his hands the while, till they came in contact with a wall
that was roughly plastered.

That was something tangible; and gradually feeling his way along this he
came to an angle in the wall, starting off in another direction.

This he traced, and at the end of a few paces came to another angle.
Then again another, and in the next side of what was a stone-floored,
nearly square apartment, he felt a door.

There was the way out, then. The door was not panelled, but of slant
bevelled boards, crossed by strong iron hinges, and--yes--here was the
keyhole; but on bending down and looking through, he could feel a cold
draught of air, but see no light.

"There must be a window," he thought; and to find this he searched the
place again as high as he could reach, but without avail; and at last he
found his way back to the heap of straw, and threw himself down in
disgust.

"Well, I sha'n't bother," he muttered. "I'm shut up here just as if I
was in prison. I've been to s